Anthem for the Drowned
by Anthem for the Drowning
Summary: Ryan Grant has been transported into this Brutal World of Heavy Metal to accomplish mysterious goals beyond his own knowledge. This story takes place during the formation of the Drowning Doom under Ophelia.
1. Chapter 1

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 1**

_Too early, _I thought. My brain was fuzzy, ignorant of the environment around me, ignorant of the light beyond my eyelids, unaware of where I was. Only the slow feeling of one who has just woken up out of a particularly vivid dream and feels as though they are being dragged back to the surface from the murky, swirling depths of unconsciousness. My first awareness was the soreness, the ache that ran from my calves up to my back. In a way it felt good, the pain of being sore. It was a loose feeling, like I might be floating. Then the smells hit me, salty but dark and musty as well. My mind began to clear up at this point, maybe it was the salty scent stimulating my head, or perhaps just the need to figure out where I was.

As I opened my eyes, I felt dried blood crack along my cheeks. The picture that seemed to unfold before my eyes, as though a curtain were being drawn up before a play, was grim and dark to say the least. My body rested on a pile of rocks, which explained the soreness. From my vantage point, and with my head turned the same way it had been when I'd woken up, I was able to see a portion of a cobblestone road and lanterns, dark purple lanterns. The air was grey and the sun was gone, but then again, had it ever been here in the first place?_ Of course not,_ I answered myself, _what would be the good in that? _I searched my brain for some kind of explanation or memory of how I'd ended up here.

I'd been hiking here, coming here to get away. To get away from… But that was where the dream had come in, and, being fresh on my mind, I wasn't keen on thinking about it. _I was attacked! _I thought suddenly, that seemed to be the most reasonable explanation. Then more memories surfaced, as if called up by my realization. The jaguar-creature, it had attacked me on this very road. I had tried to fight, tried to electrocute it with my guitar, but it was no use, it had the upper hand. My guitar got hit by a laser from the jaguar's eyes while it was overheated, exploding and sending me flying backwards into, I could only assume, this rock pile. I blacked out then from the impact and slept for, for… Well, there really wasn't any way for me to tell. Never was in this part of the world.

I rotated my head, checking for any other wild animals that might be around. Then, tenderly, I started to pull my legs around to get up. Pain shot up through my leg and I almost cried out. My eyes stung and my vision blurred for a moment as I felt a few tears of pain roll down my cheeks, wiping away blood as they went. When I could see again, I bit my lip and tried again to stand up from the pile. The pain was the same but I was ready for it, trying to ignore it, and succeeding to an extent. I pulled myself up and then supported myself up against the rocks, gasping. My leg wasn't broken, I could still move it normally, but it would take a while to walk off. A piece of scrap metal, about as long as my arm span, lay to my right and I grabbed it, feeling its cold smoothness under my fingers. I held it to my forehead for a moment, letting its coolness push away some of the pain. Sighing in slight relief, I tucked the piece under my right arm in a make-shift crutch.

As I began pushing myself up again, resolved to get out of here before anyone or anything else showed up, I noticed my guitar, cracked in half at the base of the neck, laying 20 yards in front of me. Trying hard not to fall and have to go through the pain of getting up again, I hobbled over to the remains of my now most prized possession. My only possession, I reminded myself, other than the clothes on my back. My father had bought it for me back when I was a sophomore in high school. It was a jet black Gibson Les Paul and I loved it from the moment I touched it. The way my fingers moved on it, the way it responded to my every touch. How it resonated with every thought I had while playing. But it was a different world, in a different time. A time I missed more than anything else. Those memories were painful too and I tried shutting them out of my head, by focusing on the task at hand. Best not to worry about it, it wouldn't have done me any good if I had.

I bent down slowly to pick up the remains of my destroyed guitar, holding the two pieces firmly under my left arm. For a moment I considered dropping it again, just leaving it. What good would it be to me now? I couldn't play it and I couldn't fight with it. Now it was just dead weight to slow me down. But something inside, some emotion, wouldn't let me loosen my grip on it. Grunting with the effort, I stood back up, using my crutch for support. The road looked completely deserted now, the crooked buildings on each side uninhabited. So I limped forward, knowing that before I had passed out, I was already near the end of my journey and at the beginning of a much longer one.

Anthem for the Drowning


	2. Chapter 2

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 2**

_No, no, that's got to be someone else_ I thought as I watched her flirt with a guy across the room. That wasn't her, it couldn't be, she was at home this weekend, said she had homework. Or was it babysitting? She had told me more than once that she couldn't go out this weekend, but I now realized that the reason had been different every time. No, it couldn't be her, she wouldn't lie to me like that, but wouldn't she? All those times she said she'd be ready, the promises she'd made that were broken more often than kept.

Trying to be covert, I inched around the bar to the side opposite from her, trying to stay behind the other patrons. As I slid onto a vacant barstool I kept my face hidden behind one of the taps. I glanced over in their direction where, to my dismay, I noticed them kissing rather passionately. As their faces moved apart, I saw her, and there was no mistaking it, it was her, here with someone else, kissing another guy. Crying out angrily I got up and left the bar. Behind me, I heard her scream:

"Ryan! Oh God…"

As I drove away, I saw her rush out of the door, still yelling, and crying now. Good, I wanted her to cry, I knew then that maybe she felt a fraction of how I felt now. The pain, it was starting to take over, but despite the hurt, a smirk spread over my face.

* * *

In the distance I could see the outline of what looked like a giant skull, cut into the rock face, the mouth open as if in surprise, the hollow sockets mocking the emptiness inside of me. My leg was beginning to seize up, and I was drained of all energy from the miles I had already traveled, but I knew that I couldn't stop if my life had depended on it; "it" was calling me. "It" had been calling me for quite some time now. What "it" was, I had no idea, but something in my stomach, and my brain, my entire body, was pulling me forward to this, this… thing. I had never wanted to get somewhere so deeply and bitterly, anything to fill the gaps, to cushion the pains, to drown… But no, I shouldn't think that way. And yet it still called, pulled me closer.

Now I was almost unaware of the stones under my feet as I shuffled along, pulling myself with my crutch, the skull growing ever larger. In what seemed like mere moments, I was right in front of it, the gaping hole where its mouth should be radiating from within with an eerie red glow. Losing willpower to move away, I dropped suddenly to my knees. Terrible pain shot up through my legs, but I did not scream, I couldn't no matter how badly I wanted too. I didn't have the strength. My mouth was hanging open, imitating that of the cave in front of me. My eyes rolled back in my head and words began filling my head. It was a women speaking, about death, about sorrow, about drowning, about the pain, about the emptiness, about the brokenness.

Crutch abandoned and forgotten, I rose to my feet, clutching my smashed guitar and staggering through the gaping maw of the skull-cave. At the end of the tunnel I was greeted with the most beautiful, dark sight I'd ever laid eyes on. Across a swelling sea of black stood a black chapel, connected to these shores by a bridge. The walls were adorned with organ pipes and chandeliers and the ceiling of the cave towered above me, impossibly tall. But it wasn't the cave, or the chapel that called to me, but the sea. It ebbed and flowed like the movement of the wind, the sound reaching deep into my head, enfolding my brain. And still the call went on, getting louder and stronger.

With all that remained of my strength, I reached the edge of the beautiful black sea and collapsed along its shore, the bits of my guitar flying away from me, into the sea as I fell. I could barely think, I felt like I was being suffocated, like I was… was… drowning. I wasn't though, not yet, not completely. The sea was there, inviting me with its smooth glistening surface, power, hate, death. The surface parted for just a moment and I stared as my guitar, now whole, rose from the surface where it had fallen in. Black water fell off of it as it rose, as though it were crying angrily. Emotion resonated from it, all of my hate, all of my anger that I had put into it was now flowing forth from it, endlessly. It was breathtaking, it was radiant and I wanted it with all of my being. My last sight before I blacked out, the last scene before the curtain went back down, was of my guitar, now the color of oblivion, resting down beside me, inches from my fingertips.

- Anthem for the Drowning


	3. Chapter 3

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 3**

I pulled into the venue where the rest of my band stood around our van, mentally cycling up for the show. My radio screamed out of the window as I rolled it down to talk to them.

"Hey man, you're early, I thought you were going to go listen to that local band down the street, the uh… the uh…"

"Gears of Wrath, ya man, I was. But I ran into", I faltered, I didn't want to say her name, I felt like I was choking, but he seemed to know what I meant so I moved on, "with someone else, and they were…" He stopped me with a gesture

"I get it dude, don't think about it, let's do this show and we'll all see what we can do afterwards. Trust me; this guy won't know what hit him." At the thought of revenge, the smirk spread back across my face. I got out of my car, grabbed by Gibson and headed into the back of our van to tune and warm up. Oh what a gig this was going to be.

* * *

When I regained consciousness, my head seemed clearer than it had ever been. My eyes flew open and I slowly stood up, staring again at my surroundings. Candles covered almost every inch of the ground around the walls like some sort of eternal dark vigil was being conducted then. _How old is this river, _I asked myself, _how long has all of this been here? _But, none of that mattered, did it? I was here, and I knew that this was where I needed to be. I felt more complete somehow. I stood slowly, testing my weight on my leg. Wincing, I realized that it was still sprained. Now that the hypnotic feeling was gone, the pain was returning, but somehow distant, like there was some sort of barrier keeping it away from me.

My guitar was still lying next to me, but it looked different, as if it were made of the shadows of death itself. It was the same color of the river and from just looking at it; you would think it was made of only mist. Reaching out my hand I stroked its neck in an almost loving way and was surprised to find the consistency to be very solid. The strap was just as beautiful and frightening as the guitar now was. It felt silken to the touch and flowed over my fingers as I put it across my shoulder, strapping the guitar on. It felt familiar, yet different; it felt better. As I wrapped my hand around the neck, a sudden strength flowed through my veins. I reached into my pocket to pull out a pick. Only emptiness, my pick was gone. Then I noticed something black on the ground and I reached down to pick it up.

It too, not surprisingly, was black. But there was also a logo on it of some sort, not of any brand I'd ever seen before. On it was a picture of an upside down bird with a cross in the center. The pick looked strong and powerful in my hand and I brought it to the body of my guitar. Sighing deeply, I let my instinct, formed from years of practice and gigging, take over. I stood at the banks of the river, overlooking everything, taking it all in and knowing that this is exactly where I wanted to be. It was this sea, and it beauty overwhelmed me as I brought the pick slamming down onto the strings in a heavy E chord.

Without any sort of introduction I ripped into the chorus of "Am I Evil". The words came out more naturally than they ever had and my fingers felt like flowing liquid as I pounded out riffs and solos. What happened next should have surprised me, but it seemed completely natural considering the circumstances. The sea itself began writhing and boiling in time with my music. Then the tide began to rise, up around my feet, but never touching me, like I was some sort of negative magnet. As I continued playing a column of swirling Black Tears formed around my body, encasing me like a cocoon. And then the voices came to me again. About death, drowning, sorrow, the same way they had when I had entered the cave. "It" wanted me, and I wanted it, more than anything. But "it" wanted me to choose, it would not take me, I had to take it.

The song was coming to a close and the waves of tears were returning back to the sea, slipping away in an inviting way. I could have chosen to move straight into another song, but it felt so natural, so right, to stop there. Never questioning my instinct, I stopped, letting the last chord ring out in the cavernous vault, watching the candle's flames erupt and feeling the ground shake. Finally it rumbled away and for the first time I noticed something else on my guitar. On the back there was something written in what looked like blue lipstick:

Be Seeing You Soon Ryan

- Ophelia

-Anthem for the Drowning

* * *

Please review so I know to post more Chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 4**

All of the hate and rage only fueled me as I stood in front of the crowd, ripping through all of the heavy metal our band knew. It was our heart, it was our soul, and it was our whole being. I grinned as my aforementioned friend flew through his solo in "Holy Wars". I was content to watch, and after all, I was just supposed to be the frontman. That's not to say my part was easy, but that's beside the point. When his lightning fast soloing ended I returned to the microphone and wailed the rest of the song, pumping all of the feeling into it as I could. When it ended, the crowd was absolutely nuts. I could smell burnt plastic coming from my fingers where my shitty pick had begun to warp between my fingers and the strings, I flicked it into the crowd as I pulled a fresh on off of my mic stand. There was no feeling like this in the world.

After the show I was loading gear into the truck when I noticed that there was something lying on the driver seat of my car. None of my windows were down or broken and the car door was still locked. Nothing looked like it had been forced open and all I could do was wonder how the hell that piece of paper had gotten into my car. I opened my car door and picked it up cautiously. In dark spiky black writing it said:

I Look Forward To Meeting You Ryan, Very Soon,

-Ophelia

* * *

My legs dangled down over the ledge I was sitting on, along the wall. This cave was covered in ledges, some of them covered in candles, others in bones. I strummed my guitar almost absent mindedly, picking out random tunes and melodies, with the volume turned to zero. The cryptic message on the back of my guitar was bothering me. Inside, I felt like this was exactly where I needed to be, but I wasn't supposed to give into the sea, at least not yet. Eventually I would, that was clear, but something was holding me back, like the time hadn't officially been decided yet by… someone. This Ophelia maybe?

At this thought I pulled the piece of paper that I'd found in my car out of my pocket. It seemed, at first, to be the same, mundane, only these words scrawled on the front. But there must have been something else there; there wasn't any other explanation for my arrival here. I hopped down from the ledge, landing ten feet below on the cave floor in a crouch, my sprained leg protesting but not as much as it had a few days ago when I'd first arrived. Since that day, I'd been exploring every corner of the cave, sleeping on the ledges. Although I never went hungry, I couldn't exactly remember what I ate in those few days. Most nights I would go to bed hungry and wake up feeling completely normal. The only way I could tell the passing of time was the lessening of the pain in my leg and my sleep cycle, although I couldn't be completely sure that that was even right.

Standing back up, I slung my guitar over my back and approached the sea with the paper held loosely in my right hand. I knelt on the shore, littered with bones and other remains, and gently put the paper down beside the lapping tides. The sea rose up enveloping the letter. For a moment, I was worried. I considered, briefly, sticking my hand into the liquid and trying to save the note but then instantly rejected this idea. _Just wait _I thought to myself. After a few moments the tide pulled back out from the shore, leaving the piece of paper the same as it had been before. As I picked it up however, I saw something bleeding through the paper, from the other side perhaps. Interested now and hoping I would find something, I flipped the paper over. The back was now covered in tablature, where I was sure that there hadn't been any before.

Without losing any time, I pulled my guitar back down and began working through the notes and rhythms. I was soon lost in the swirl of notes and I closed my eyes, making the pattern more and more complex every time I went through it, adding little embellishments wherever I felt they were necessary. When I believed I had committed the whole thing to memory, I slipped the note back into my pocket, suddenly sure of what I had to do next.

Something else, not from within me now, seemed to be guiding me anxiously to my next destination. Up the bridge I went, right to the center, where I could overlook the entire sea. It was absolutely breathtaking and I paused for a moment to take it all in. But my guiding power was growing ever more impatient and so I quickly returned to the task at hand. My right hand slid down the body of my guitar to the volume knob and I twisted it until it hit ten and wouldn't move anymore. Energy began to flow through my veins once more. My brain went completely clear, only the one riff going through my mind.

My fingers began flying over the neck of the guitar, playing the dark, sweet melody that was now ingrained in my head. The world around me seemed to amplify my guitar, as it had the first time I played. Candles erupted into flame and lights flashed along the cavernous roof of the cave. The music flowed like the sea itself. All of a sudden, all of the anger I'd had that night, all of the rage and hate came back and forced itself out into the riff I was playing. The thoughts of revenge, of pain. The riff came to a close but the mayhem around me did not lessen a bit. The surface of the sea began to bubble and I could see something moving around from within its depths.

At that point I felt a sharp pain from my back pocket where I had put the message. I pulled it out, flipping it to the side where the music was written. Words had now appeared on the top of the page, above the tabs, like a title. It read as follows:

Anthem for the Drowned

Now the bubbling from the lake was reaching such a high that I thought an active volcano might exist underneath its glimmering surface. Whatever was moving from beneath now reached the top and began pushing its way out of the depths of the sea. It looked like a huge hot air balloon, only all black and with some sort of propeller on the back. I stepped back to the opposite wall of the bridge and watched as the balloon rose up many feet above the water and then hovered there, as if waiting for its master to command it into motion. From behind me I heard the sound of clapping, ringing and echoing off of the walls. I whipped my head around to see a blue figure, shrouded in shadow, floating towards me.

"Very well done" It said in a smooth silken voice that made me want to sink to my knees in submission. From that moment I knew I could never refuse anything that voice commanded me to do.

"Very well indeed, we have much work ahead of us" She smiled then, a dark, impish smile. A smile I would never forget.


	5. Chapter 5

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 5**

"Watcha lookin at", my friend said, smacking me on the back. "Is it a love note from an adoooorrrrrring fan he said in that sarcastic way he had."

"Oh hell ya!" I said, pleased with the shift to a lighter mood.

"Well, when you're done ogling over it, why don't you join the rest of us. We're headed down to 12th for a drink, you in?"

"Sure man, right behind you" I hopped into my car and revved the engine to life. As the bus pulled out in front of me, I pulled up behind it. I never traveled with the band, I'd always liked the freedom of having my own car. Plus, it was always good to have a little extra space to yourself. The note was wiped from my mind by the clear night air as it whipped past my window.

A few hours later, I walked back to the car, arm in arm with the rest of my band. It was these moments I loved, the companionship, the brotherhood of it all. We all said goodbye, complementing each other on the show and set up a time to meet tomorrow to move on to the next spot on our tour. As I approached the car, I debated for a moment about calling a cab. But I wasn't drunk; I'd only had two drinks and then only soda after that. The thought passed by and I opened my car door. I would have sat on the little vial, probably shattering it, if I hadn't seen it before I got in. The bottle was shaped like a dark tear drop. For a moment I thought of perfume, I thought of her and the pain came crashing through as if a dam somewhere had burst. Moving the vial to a cup holder I got into my car and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Ophelia was now standing by the sea, staring at the dirigible that had come from it. With a motion of her hand, the balloon began floating in her direction. The sea under it barely stirred as it passed overhead. When it reached her she walked around it, running her hand over the basket, in some sort of inspection. Seeming satisfied, she turned towards me. I had been sitting silently behind her, watching. I didn't want to ask questions, I didn't want to disturb her at all. Just watching her move was mesmerizing, how she seemed to float like a ghost yet somehow move like a human. It was almost unsettling. She beckoned me over to her. Immediately I rose from my seat, leaving my guitar resting there and approached her.

"I know you must have questions for me, I too have many for you, but mine will have to wait until later. We have one thing to accomplish first." She said in that silken voice that was so overpoweringly beautiful and seductive.

"I, um, I…" I stuttered, looking for words, trying to remember one of the millions of questions I had had only minutes ago. But my mind had gone blank since she had appeared.

"Let's start with why your still human, shall we?" She said sweetly, that sinister smile spreading over her face again.

"Why?" I said, rather lamely. Her smile got even better and something inside me told me to run, but I was mesmerized by her.

"Blood Tribute". In a flash the shadows around her hands formed into some sort of weapon, I couldn't tell exactly what it was. One moment it looked like an axe, the next a sword. Before I could even blink she had swung it into my chest. I cried out as I fell onto my knees, clutching at the gash in my chest. I tried to scream but couldn't, my lungs weren't working. Gasping for air I watched as blood flowed from my chest like some sick, twisted waterfall.

"Oh, don't be such a baby" she said, laughing to herself. As my vision started blurring from the pain and the blood loss, I saw her pull some sort of container out of, well, I could only assume thin air. She held it up to my chest, catching some of the blood. I tried clutching at it, but my hands were slick in my own plasma and I didn't have enough strength to pull it away if I could. When the container was full, she pulled it away and set it in the dirigible. By this time, I had collapsed onto my side where I was shaking uncontrollably, blood flowing from me over the shore, into the river.

"I'm not going to let you die" she said, "I still need you". My ears were ringing and I knew I was clinging to life by threads. I felt a sharp kick at my side and then I heard a splash, and then, I was drowning. All the times I had imagined what it would be like, didn't come close. I couldn't see the surface; all I felt was something pulling me down. The sea had swallowed me and I knew I might never see life again. My senses failed completely.

* * *

Please review this story if you want more chapters


	6. Chapter 6

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 6**

I drove in silence. It probably was not the best idea. When I was alone, and everything was quiet, I couldn't do anything to distract myself from thinking about it. The scene kept replaying itself over and over inside of my head. They were kissing, they were right there, right in front of me. Everything she had said was a lie. All she'd ever said to me had been a façade. Now all that was left was brokenness, causing a pain that made me just want to stop existing. In my head I saw him, the boy she'd been with, laughing at me, over and over. Telling me I wasn't good enough. All the laughing reached a crescendo inside my head. It blocked out everything else. My foot was pressing ever hard on the pedal, but I didn't notice. It was dark outside so I couldn't see everything whizzing by. My speedometer hit 60 and still I was entranced in my own thoughts.

Then, time seemed to slow down; I looked up, clearly seeing the road before me. Someone was standing, motionless, almost like they were waiting, on my side of the road. Though my lights were on, it seemed to bend around them. I had only seconds to avoid a collision. My mind went blank and my instinct kicked in as I whipped the steering wheel to the right. The car went crashing across the curb and into the grass where it flipped over. Before it car the ground, I watched as the tear drop vial flew from the cup holder and smashed.

* * *

I couldn't breathe, there was water in my throat and I was choking. Desperately, I flipped onto my stomach and pounded by stomach with my fists, forcing up a tide of black water from my lungs. Coughing and spluttering, I laid back down on my back. The cavernous roof of the cave stretched above me again, I hadn't died. Suddenly, I realized I was naked. But it wasn't cold or uncomfortable, or at least until I heard her voice from a shadowy corner of the cave

"Well look who finally decided to wake up" The voice was just as soothing as ever, and, though I tried, I felt no reason inside of me to want to harm her. I was still mesmerized, still wanted to serve. She flew over from her recess and hovered above my chest where, I noticed, a long scar now ran from one side to the other.

"I am sorry, but it was necessary" She said, in a simpering tone of voice.

"N-Necessary" I repeated, still staring only at her eyes. _Of course it was necessary _I told myself, _she wouldn't have hurt me if it hadn't been, and she still needs me. _And suddenly, I was ok with it. Ok with giving anything she needed. She saw my acceptance In my face and the dark smirk was back on her face.

"Here" she said, laying a pile of clothes next to me, "Get dressed; we need to begin right away." As she moved away, I flipped off of the ground, feeling somehow lighter and stronger than ever before. The jeans were black, ripped and torn on the knees. A chain fell from the right side and the denim felt comfortable yet firm under my hands. The shirt had the same upside down bird logo as my guitar pick. I put the clothes on, enjoying the feeling of clothes that weren't stiff and travel worn. Next, I picked up my guitar from where I'd left it and hooked it back onto my back. It felt natural there and I began grinning, excited to travel the road ahead.

"Now that you're ready", Ophelia said, standing again beside the river, "Come here, I want to show you the fruits of our efforts." I began to approach very cautiously, wary of another attack. This made her laugh and I suddenly felt stupid. If my skin could have still blushed, my face would have been a deep crimson color.

"It's Ok", she said, "I don't bite". Once I was standing beside her, she reached into the dirigible and pulled out the vial of blood. My blood.

"This," she said, uncorking the top, "Is the reason I did what I did. I figured you'd want to see it and that it was only fitting since you did technically die for it." I only nodded, waiting to see what would happen. She held her hand out over the shores and tipped the bottle over, pouring the blood into the sea of black tears. I watched as it mixed and then floated beneath the surface. There was a deep glow emanating from the bottom and something burst from the point where the blood had sank and it flew into Ophelia's outstretched hand. It was a guitar, much more beautiful than mine.

"This, is the reason I needed your blood. This is the reason I need you". It was then that I noticed that she was holding the guitar rather awkwardly, almost as if…

"You can't play it!" I concluded, now knowing why she hadn't just let me die, or at least part of the reason, I sensed that it went beyond a few guitar lessons.

"Yes", she said, laughing a little bit as she did so, "I need you to teach me."

"Why…" I started but she cut me off

"I'd rather not tell you now; all will become clear to you my dear." And just like that, I had no more desire to know. She slid her guitar into my hands as she moved closer.

"Tune it for me please, we start tomorrow, have something to teach me, I'm looking forward to it very much." As she passed by, she kissed my cheek. I opened my mouth, but decided to remain silent. Black, shadowy wings spread from her back and she flew out of sight, to some ledge or another on the other side of the sea.

I walked the wall of the cave and jumped up to my edge, I height I couldn't have managed before now. As I tuned her guitar, I watched the candles burning, never seeming to grow smaller or dimmer. The cave was beginning to look, comforting, like home. This place felt safe, I felt more at home here than I'd ever had in my own world. At the thought of home, I shuddered, the pain of it all seeming to have not dulled a bit with the passage of time. It was still acute in my brain, jabbing at me when my defenses fell. Her face kept popping into my mind, with him… Another jab of pain. Trying to distract myself, I picked up my own guitar and began picking out random rhythms again, as I had what seemed like days ago.

Then inspiration struck, I found something. I played it over and over, trying to perfect it, trying to feel what it would do when I played it to the world itself. How would the elements react this time? What would it create? I sat there, oblivious of the passing of time, writing and shaping the melody, like a potter would clay, until I had it the way I wanted it. Ophelia couldn't hear, but she would tomorrow. I wanted to impress her, more than anything else. I wanted to break her defenses, and I wanted to answers. I wanted to be a part of whatever she was trying to do and help her in any way possible.

- Anthem for the Drowned


	7. Chapter 7

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 7**

The next morning, I was awakened by a sharp kick to the stomach. All of the air was knocked from my lungs as I almost rolled off of the ledge I'd fallen asleep on. Gasping, I tried to sit up, my eyes flying open as I did so. In front of me, Ophelia was laughing, floating in the air above me.

"Come on, time to get to work" she said, aiming another kick at me, but I swiftly dodged it. Her guitar was already in her hands and I retrieved mine from a rock against the wall.

"I don't really know what…"

"Teach me how to fight with it. I want to cause pain, I want to hurt others."

"You and me both…" I said, pulling my pick out and setting it against the strings. She watched as I dialed the volume up and began warming up. At first I went through power chord sequences, and we both took note of how they affected the environment. Lighting smashed the earth and cracks formed as it crumbled from beneath. Ophelia quickly picked up on the chord sequence and, after a few minutes, it sounded coherent. I stopped, listening to her play it on her own. The lightning and quaking also stopped, with only an occasional random burst or so.

She wasn't getting frustrated and she kept trying at it, banging out the same four power chords, trying to put it all together. After about half an hour, I suggested that we take a break but she was resilient. Something was driving her from inside, some inner spark that had now found fuel and was turning, slowly into a flame. Before long, I was able to stop and the lightening would still flash on, unabated. I grinned, _not bad Ryan, not bad._ Wrapping my hands back around the neck of my guitar, I started into a solo over the chords Ophelia was now playing with some sense of consistency. She was learning faster than he had ever imagined someone could.

Something was happening in the water behind me. The combination of rhythm and lead had caused some sort of reaction. Without stopping, we both turned and stared at the sea. From its depths burst a creature that looked like the Grim Reaper himself. Behind it followed more hooded figures, holding fiery blue scythes. And behind them still came more creatures, great black horses that seemed to form from the tears themselves. We both stopped playing, the last note reverberating through the air, shaking the ceiling and sending a frenzy of fire through the air. Ophelia went to meet the reapers, arms rested on the body of her guitar.

"Yes, these will do, don't you think?" she said. I nodded in approval, walking to stand beside her.

"Welcome to the Army of Black Tears" she said, holding out a T-shirt, similar to the one I was given. _T-shirts really mean a lot about your allegiances here _I thought. The reapers bowed their heads as they mounted their horses and rode across the bridge into the chapel.

"They're beautiful" she said in a state of awe.

"Ya, so, you said army…" I said inquisitively.

"Yes, I suppose I did" she answered as if to say _so what? _Her face darkened a bit.

"N-nothing" I stammered under her stare. Her face changed back to normal and she laughed,

"Don't worry, you'll know all soon enough."

"Ok, so does everything we play affect this world?" I asked.

"Of course it does, at least from what I've seen" She replied.

"Let's see what this does then." I played the solo I'd been writing the night before and watched as tears from the sea rose and flowed in our direction. They began forming some sort of coherent form in front of me as I continued to play. The tears began to solidify into glistening crystalline forms and combining with each other. They were constructing something, but it was not yet apparent what.

Officer Perry sipped his coffee slowly at the scene of the wreck, wracking his brains silently. This just didn't make any sense; he'd never seen something so puzzling in all of his years. Sure, sometimes you had a crime scene without a body but it was usually discovered and there were usually signs of someone walking away or being drug out. But here, there was only the car, totally smashed in like a small black hole had erupted in the middle. The interior was covered in some sort of black water and, he could only assume, blood from the victim. But then, since there was no body yet blood everywhere, why was there no blood from a body leaving the car or signs of a struggle?

Another puzzling fact was that the police had to pry the door open with a crowbar, indicating that no one had left it after the crash. They would have been sealed inside by the bashed in car door. It was surely the most mysterious of circumstances he had ever witnessed. Upon searching the rest of the car, authorities had also found shards of broken glass, not matching the windshield, a rubber stopper, a guitar case with no guitar in it and a T-shirt for some punk band. _So he was some sort of teen rocker metal head_, Perry thought as his eyes feel on a Mastodon CD sticking out of the pile of things from the car. He was probably drunk…


	8. Chapter 8

**Anthem for the Drowned**

**Chapter 8**

It was the strangest thing. I could feel the cool rock surface under me, could feel the heat of the area around me. But I didn't feel like I was all there exactly. Like part of me was still in the smoking ruins of my car, covered in that weird black crap. Slowly, more feeling came back into my brain, so did memories. And as I regained control of my mental abilities, so too did I see an image that was not there before, displayed before me now inside of my closed eyelids. It was of a huge skull at the end of a pathway, surrounded by tall, leaning buildings. Before I could discern anything more about it, the vision popped out of my head.

When I regained control of my eyes, they leapt open, conveying to me a horrific scene. I was lying on a stone alter, surrounded by freakish, crimson clad… things. I didn't know what they were or what their purposes were but I know they weren't the welcoming committee for any sort of friendly destination. I tried to wriggle free as they approached me but I realized that my arms and legs were bound to the altar. I almost called for help but realized it would be no use, this place looked deserted. The creature in the front of the three pulled a sacrificial dagger from his belt as he stood beside me. He lowered it to my flesh and began to carve some sort of symbol I could not see.

Without any command from my brain, I let out a sharp high pitched scream. Shockwaves exploded from my mouth and sent the three spiraling backwards, the dagger flying high into the air above me. The creatures weren't dead. The first to regain its feet came running towards me, sword extended. I sidestepped and slashed off the creatures hand at the rest, sword and all. I pried the cold, dead fingers from the hilt and drove the weapon through the thing. It cried out as blood spurted from its back. I turned to face the other two, who were still getting up and something caught my eye. It was my guitar; it must have been transported here after I'd gotten in the crash. With it in my hands I wondered if it would have the same effect as my voice. I ramped up the volume and shrieked out a fast high pitched riff.

Lightning shot from the guitar, striking the two, knocking them backwards again. Unable to tell if they were surely dead, I drove my new sword into each before casting my eyes about to examine my environment.

* * *

As the shadows solidified from the sea of black tears, I ran my fingers over the scar on my chest from those satanic creatures. I wanted revenge, but Ophelia would always come first. The mass was now obviously very solid, and from it burst a shining black hearse, complete with an extra large coffin in the back. I wondered if Ophelia had any particular idea for who would be occupying it. Someone dead, or maybe two living bodies that… But I quickly cut off that train of thought as Ophelia strode the length of the car, running her spidery fingers over it. Her grin was true, the most sincere I had yet seen from her. When she opened the door, a blank look spread over her face, as if she was thinking about some past event. Then the blank look turned into a flash of anger, but then quickly morphed into yet another evil grin.

"D-do you like it", I stammered, again feeling that need to please inside my gut.

"Ha-ha, hop in. Time for a test drive"

As we sped through the surrounding forest that I had traversed what seemed like months ago by foot, I quickly realized that Ophelia had never had any lessons or experience driving a car. But she quickly got the hang of it, and I saw that same fiery and determined look in her eyes. She was trying to prove something, to someone. But what? And to who? It had to have something to do with all of these preparations for war and her mysterious past.

I was lost in my thoughts, but I was pulled back to reality at a sudden squeal from the brakes. As I looked up, I gasped. The sun was setting just over the water line of a beautiful flowing ocean. It was the first time I'd seen the sun in such a long time. I now realized something else. I preferred the dark. Ophelia, also did not seem particularly enchanted by this sunset either, so I knew that that must not be our real reason for coming here. Maybe I was about to get another piece to this puzzle.

"There", she said. I glanced at where her finger was pointed and saw a tightly grouped, snowcapped, mountain range. I could also see the snow falling fast and thick over that section of the isle. The hate was back in her eyes now. "They are there".

My first thought was _who are "they"_, I then proceeded to wonder if, maybe, she referred to the demons that had tried to spill my guts. I too felt a burning passion then, understanding Ophelia's hatred. But something told me, that these were not the leather clad freaks, they were something else.

"Who…" I started but she covered my mouth with her fingers and looked me in the eye.

"You'll know soon enough." I tilted my head in towards hers as her hand fell away from my mouth. It felt like something sort of energy flowed between us in this moment. I hesitated and in a flash she pulled her head away, revving the ignition of the car, giggling a little bit. The car sped off, back towards the sea, and the relaxing darkness, bouncing a bit on the dirt road and cobblestones.

I felt embarrassed, I was just a pawn in this plan, a part I was delighted to play, but that moment had felt so… right? But why did I have to try? Had she even noticed it? Of course she had… Another voice in my head whispered, "She's using you". Another responded, "I don't give a damn." The car drove on, shortly arriving back at the sea, which now had soldiers exiting it at a regular interval, drawn to its dark and mysterious powers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Anthem for the Drowned **

**Chapter 9**

The morning outside the cave was wonderful. The skies were grey and the air was cold against my skin. I drew in a slow breath, allowing my lungs to fill with air and then exhaled just as slowly, savoring the moment alone. From behind me I heard a heavy riff pounding throughout the cave. Ophelia had taken to practicing and forming her skills into a weapon of mass destruction. It also greatly increased the morale of her troops when either of us tried out new, dark melodies for them. It made me proud as a teacher (and servant of course) that Ophelia was writing her own solos now. She had learned so quickly. It was only one month ago that she was picking the instrument up for the first time. I smiled at how powerful she had finally become, it was exhilarating and caused darkness to well up in me again every time I heard her.

I heard the music get louder behind me and I turned to face the mouth of the cave. She stood in the rock opening, fitting so perfectly with the scene around her. Still playing she called out:

"Ryan, come here, I have something for you. Returning the favor you might say". I followed her, picking up my guitar as I did so.

"Here, play this" she said, handing me a sheet with chords written all over it. I felt pride again for my student and I held back the humor from my voice as I responded,

"Alright, sounds like a plan ma'am"

I started out, enjoying the way the chords seemed to melt together, watching as the sea behind her flowed with the beat of the music. Ophelia opened into another riff that I hadn't heard yet. That's when I realized she was improvising, trying to create something with the world. I tried to play along with everything, making everything line up, helping her in any way I could to keep the music going. The familiar smile spread over her face, but I saw a look of expectancy in it as well. What exactly was she…?

Suddenly I felt an uncomfortable pain on my back where my shoulder blades were. I tried to keep my face composed as the pain grew worse and worse. Suddenly it became overwhelming and I dropped onto my knees, grunting and grimacing. The music stopped, replaced by Ophelia's laughter. As the pain suddenly seemed so bad that it couldn't get worse, I felt my back rip open. Two shadowy wings spread wide from the tendons in my back. As they stretched out I rose from the ground. When I'd caught my breath, I allowed the smile to spread back over my face.

"Come with me" she said, holding out her hand to me. I took it and we lifted off from the ground, rather awkwardly as I attempted my first flight. Luckily they felt like extra appendages, more natural than I expected. Before long I had the hang of it and we flew from the mouth of the cave, leaving a trail of dark matter behind us.

I soon recognized the snowcapped mountains in front of us. The place where our enemies were gathered. We landed on a flat outcropping of one of the mountains from which I could see the whole valley below us, but on which we were well concealed. I felt my wings fold back into my back as I turned to look at Ophelia. Her eyes seemed to be burning with hatred as she stared at the stage in the valley below. I looked closer, surprised to see humans, not demons. My mouth opened in a small "O", as if I were silently asking a question.

"These, Ryan, are our enemies. These are the ones who rejected me. People who I once trusted but who cast me out, left me to die."

"When are we to attack them?" I asked, Ophelia's intentions suddenly becoming very clear in my mind.

"Soon enough, we must take them swiftly. They are weak now, they haven't moved from here since they deserted me" she replied.

"Of course ma'am. We will win. We are stronger and, in my opinion, far better led." At this she smiled but said,

"Do not underestimate them. Their leader Ed…" she stopped before his name finished, awakening a new curiosity in me, but it was quickly repressed, "Their leader is very strong and wise. He wields a guitar, just like us. Yet still we have an advantage. They have no idea that we are coming."

Below in the valley, a saw lines of smoke coming from cigarettes and motorcycles alike. Almost nothing was moving, except for the occasional laser burst from the stage, striking a target.

"They don't look so bad" I said.

"Ha, if only that were true" She responded, offering her hand out "Let's go."

When we were back at the cave, Ophelia called all of her forces together. The soldiers of the drowned now stretched all the way from the shores to the front of the cave.

"Tomorrow, we make the first strike. The first cut of many into the Veins of Ironheade. They are weak, and as a disease destroys the already infirm, so we to will spread as a watery plague throughout their forces, cutting them down one by one. Death to Ironheade, Revenge for the Drowned!" At the end of this impromptu battle speech there was a collective uproar of applause from the gathered mass. The group split up, going back to their tasks and preparing their weapons for the morning.

"How was that for a pep talk" she asked, landing next to me on the far side of the cave across the bridge where I had been silently listening.

"Very good ma'am, couldn't have said it better myself." I said, smiling at her confidently.

"You should stop calling me ma'am Ryan" she said, "You owe me nothing. You are the reason I could build these forces. You taught me how to wield my most important weapon, music. I killed you for God's sake, twice as a matter of fact, yet still you treat me like I'm your master, like you're somehow indebted me"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked. "You brought me here. This place is fantastic; it's everything I wanted in my home world. It's almost like I'm in a dream. I will do anything to help you win this war. Anything you want from me, I will give"

"Anything?" she asked, approaching me slowly, that same grin that I knew so well, breaking over her face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Anthem for the Drowned**

Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, I've had severe writer's block and also a lot going on with my band and school and stuff. Thanks for not giving up on me or my story in the absence of new material. So, picking up right where we left off…

**Chapter 10**

My feet felt frozen as her face moved towards mine. Even if I had some control over my body at the time, I wouldn't have moved away. Our eyes locked for a moment, and then her lips moved to mine. I wrapped my arms around her back, pulling her body close against mine. Her skin was cold to the touch, but electrifying. Her lips closed and then opened again against mine, and mine followed her every move. Her hands moved slowly up my back, gripping at my shirt, stroking my spine. For a moment she paused and pulled away, shaking hair out of her eyes and smiling seductively. I put one hand behind her head and drew it back up to mine. I don't remember how long we stood there, only that we had cut ourselves off from the rest of the world, immersed in each other. I felt like we were one, connected through passion and hate and remorse and wrath. Slowly this time, Ophelia drew back

"We're in public" she whispered into my ear. "Meet me tonight on this side of the bridge, unless you have better plans"

"I'll be here ma'am" I said. This response was followed by a quick jab to my stomach

"What did I say about calling me ma'am, Ryan?"

"Sorry Oph…" she put her finger up to my lips and then kissed me once more

"You may call me whatever you like, now go prepare for tomorrow" She backed away and then took off into the air. Smiling, I picked up my guitar to tune it, passing as much time as I could. I went over all of the riffs and solos I would need to use for tomorrow. Fire, Smog and Lightning all crashed around me as I practiced, but out of all of the riffs we'd written, my favorite one materialized a smoking dark black sword. I worked through a few exercises with this as well before laying it down to be called into use tomorrow. The sky outside was just beginning to turn red as the sun set behind the mountains and the purple/blue smoke from the dry ice fields floated in to cover our beautiful city.

Across the river I saw Ophelia standing in a circle of gravediggers and Brides, pointing out different items on a map spread over the ground. She saw me staring at her and paused in her speech to wink at me. I spread my wings from my back and flew over to the ledge where I had lived for so long now. My very few possessions lay scattered around, including a few extra picks and the messages I had received from Ophelia before being transported here. I expected myself to feel like I might never see any of it again after tomorrow, but something in my head made me realize how ridiculous and cliché that was. I was a death machine; there was no way I was going down. Feeling completely renewed and confident, I flew out of the cave and landed on top of one of the nearby buildings. I watched as reapers paraded around, on their skeletal mounts, and I looked on as gravediggers sparred with each other, attempting to knock the others down. I felt restless, _I need to get some energy out, _I told myself.

I hopped down from the ledge and approached the gravediggers, calling on my sword as I did so.

"Look at the big bad sidekick" one of them sneered. The others laughed and I laughed along with them, knowing that they meant no harm by it, we were all a family, but that didn't stop us from going all out on each other in mock battles and exercises.

"You're damn straight" I said, lifting the sword into a ready position. The other gravediggers lunged and I quickly leapt into the air, swinging as I did so. My blade knocked one of the shovels out of its owner's hands. As he dove to retrieve it I kicked him, sending him flying into a rock wall. As I turned to face the circle of remaining diggers I heard the soft sounds of wings from behind me… just a moment too late. Something slammed into my back and I hit the ground hard. I could taste blood in my mouth. Whatever had hit me was now pinning me to the ground

"How about you pick on someone your own size" I heard from above me.

"Ophelia!" I said, startled, "Lemme' up"

"I don't think so" she replied, flipping me over onto my back so we were face to face. She was laughing now at how swiftly she'd taken me down. One of the diggers joined in and I threw my sword, purposefully missing him by mere centimeters. As it went whistling past his head he quickly sprinted back into the cave, followed by the other gravediggers.

Coughing, I turned my head to the side and spat some of the blood and saliva onto the ground. Moving one hand to the side of my face, Ophelia turned my head back to face hers, she had stopped laughing now. Her body was soft on top of mind and I noticed our position for the first time as she lowered her mouth down to mine. Noticing my opportunity I flipped over, forcing her onto the ground underneath me, pinning her arms to the ground.

"I win" I said, smiling.

"Are you sure about that?" Her knee came up and pelted me in the groin.

"Ugh" I cried falling off and wincing. I was curled up into a ball on the ground, trying to keep from throwing up in front of her. She got to her knees beside me, holding the tip of my sword over my throat.

"Now who's winning?" I couldn't get in enough air to form a response so I just help up my arms in surrender.

"You're damn straight" she said moving her arms around me. As the moon rose above the buildings, we flew through the night up into a small thicket of trees, shrouded in dry ice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Anthem for the Drowned**

For those of you interested, I've also just started a Bioshock fanfic called "Brotherhood of Shadows" about a teenager who travels to Rapture after his father dies, leaving him no other place to go. If you get bored of this story but want to read something else by me, it's over there. Thanks

-Anthem

**Chapter 11**

I was awake. But just barely, I refused to acknowledge my own consciousness, I was too comfortable. The grass underneath me felt nice against my skin and the chill, morning air was soothing against the scar from Ophelia's axe the first time we'd met. As my thoughts turned to Ophelia, memories drifted lazily into my mind and I allowed them to float by without seriously giving them any attention. I became aware that my arm left arm was hooked over her waist, holding her against me on the soft ground. I felt her stomach move in and out in sync with her breathing. Her hair lay gently across my face and it fluttered as I breathed in time with her, trying not to wake her. I felt so peaceful there, like I never wanted to move, just lay there. But then my thoughts turned to the battle. It was coming, too soon. _Too early _I thought _don't want to move_… My beautiful moment was now slightly overshadowed by the impending bloodshed. With a sigh I forced my eyelids open.

"I knew you were awake" she said softly. She turned over so that we were now face to face, inches apart. I laughed, brushing her hair out of her eyes,

"Did you now?"

"It doesn't matter either way, as much as I'd like to lay here and argue the point with you, we need to get moving, the sun will be up soon and we need to make it to Death's clutch before noon." I frowned slightly and looked away from her face. It was then that I noticed that I couldn't see the sky or anything around us. The veil of black tears the usually hovered around Ophelia had drifted away from her and now hung like drapes around us, like a tent of some sort, hiding us from view. I sighed…

"Alright" I kissed her and then pulled away.

"Get dressed" she replied, "I'll meet you down at the sea in two minutes, and don't you dare be late or I'll kick your ass again." I laughed,

"As if…" The black veil around us flew back to Ophelia's body as she got up, spread her black wings and flew from the ledge. I quickly pulled my jeans back on and the black shirt with the bird and ankh back on. Securing my guitar over my shoulder, I leapt down and entered the cave, approaching the shores of the mighty black sea where the troops were amassed, silent and waiting.

"You know where to go, flow like a river!" Ophelia said, pointing to the exit. As the troops sprinted through the mouth of the cave, I saw Ophelia motion to me with her finger. I flew up to her position.

"What's the plan?" I asked

"The battle today will be small, just a test to see how strong Ironheade is now. Most of our forces will be stationed at the dry ice mines, only about one eighth are going across the ravine today to fight" She replied.

"So we will lose?" I asked

"Yes, but we won't lose a significant number of troops, one enough to make it appear as if we're putting up a fight. In addition, the two of us need to stay hidden. It's not time for them to know who's behind this force yet. We will observe and learn and then ambush them at the dry ice mines when they inevitably seek to destroy us. Are you ready?"

"Oh Hell Yeah" I yelled.

"Good", she said giggling, "It's going to be a long day".

We flew ahead of the troops, landing on the snowcapped mountains with a good vantage point of the Ironheade camp. Our first wave of troops would approach from the river on the right flank and the next three waves would come from the front. The primary objectives were to capture fan geysers to keep Ironheade in its weakened. The secondary objective was to deal as much damage to the Ironheade forces before our small test force was wiped out. The troops were slower on foot and we waited silently until they arrived. When they finally approached, Ophelia flew down to meet them and clarify instructions one last time before they went into battle. I sat watching, one leg stretched out in front of the other. _Just watching _I told myself, _See what they do, analyze_.

Ophelia landed next to me, I could see below that the first bride was just beginning to make her way out of the woods. A headbanger stood by the river, and he watched her, a confused look on his face.

"Ryan, I want you to take the rear command, launch the next waves on my signal", Ophelia ordered. I saluted and then flew down to wear the rest of our troops were waiting, just out of sight of the enemy stage.

Ironheade was slow to react, but they barely managed to overcome the first attacking force, using the short pause to try and bring more troops to the stage. As the small army started heading towards the first fan leech I heard a shrill whistle from Ophelia.

"Go!" I yelled, pointing ahead, "Stop them from capturing that geyser". Frightwigs, Gravediggers and Brides surged forth around me, pushing towards the Ironheade Army. The short skirmish that ensued resulted in total loss on both sides, the final gravedigger being decapitated by the Ironheade leader, Eddie, himself. While Ironheade attempted to quickly create more troops, Ophelia ordered in the next wave of our troops. The sprinted up the hill towards the next fan leech, quickly overcoming it, releasing the fans. But as the monster flew away, the next party of Ironheade troops arrived, but this time our forces overpowered them. The few remaining tear drinkers headed to the Ironheade stage and begin hacking away at it. Alarms sounded and Eddie was beginning to panic as he tried to order in more troops and defend his stage.

Another whistle, go for the third wave, our most powerful by far. This one included everything from gravediggers to lightning rods. The battle seemed in our clutches even though we'd aimed to lose. But Ophelia knew something she wouldn't let on. In fact, I started to suspect that the battle was not to observe Ironheade, but to force something to make a move against us, for all the surprises in their forces to be laid clear. She couldn't have been wrong about losing, this battle wasn't over yet. That's when I heard the sounds of revving engines coming from the left of the Ironheade stage. I flew up to Ophelia and looked at the oncoming forces. Those weren't Thunderhogs they were…

"Fire Barons" Ophelia stated, the smile spreading over her face, "I knew they would come, they can't resist a good fight, especially now that Lionwhyte's dead. This is what I was waiting for. Come one, were leaving now to prepare the dry ice mines." I followed Ophelia back the way we had came, stopping to descend below the layer of fog where the remainder of our huge army waited.

"Bring more troops from the sea" she commanded, "I'll hold them off at the ravine as long as possible, unlike us they can't travel along the water, they'll have to build a bridge, and I'll keep them at it as long as I can." With that she shot off towards the sky while the rest of us went about preparing the battlefield for the next Ambush.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was all over, we'd been driven back into the heart of our own territory. Ophelia and I stood together inside the chapel, watching our forces fall to the slaughter of Ironheade. We needed to leave, get out while there was still time. I turned to Ophelia, about to say something when she grabbed my arm

"Ryan, this isn't your fight anymore. I need to handle Riggs and Doviculus on my own. We were always fated to lose this fight and the most I can do to thank you for… for everything, is to get you out."

"I can go", I said, "I can still fly out while there's time."

"No, they'll never stop hunting you or me, when I mean I'm getting you out, I mean out of this world, back to your own."

"No! I belong here with you!" I cried.

"I'm not talking about this with you, I would never forgive myself if you didn't live through this."

"Please…" I said, feeling completely lost. She didn't respond. I noticed that she was holding something that looked vaguely like a heroin needle, but instead of heroin, it was full of a black liquid that I recognized from the tear vial just before I had been brought here. She tied a rubber band around my bicep and then plunged the needle into my vein.

"Goodbye" she whispered in my ear as she walked away, to a spot visible from the main entrance. I felt myself begin to grow faint and I sank down to my knees, staring dazed as Riggs approached Ophelia and they began to speak. Then I saw Doviculus appear and then rip her heart out from behind.

"N!..." I began to shout, but was completely gone now. I blacked out from the drug.

_Too Early _I thought as I slowly regained consciousness. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew where I was. I recognized the smell. Cigarette smoke, whiskey, blood, the scent was all too familiar. My band's practice garage. I opened my eyes and stared around at the room, which seemed foreign after the amount of time I had been away. The room was really just a unit in a storage garage. The floor was hard concrete and the walls were bland and covered in various dark brown and green stains as well as cigarette burns. The floor was scattered with various amps, PA's, drums, broken strings and wires.

I was surprised to look over and see my guitar on the stand closest to me. But it didn't seem to fit in with everything else. When I looked into it, I saw into the black tears, I saw into the sea I had called home. I was reminded of Ophelia. Memories flooded in of the last few moments we had been together. The frantic stab of the needle, the confusion, the death. My eyes traveled down the body of my guitar and I noticed a piece of paper

"I wrote this riff with you in mind

This world and yours these notes do bind

You'll know when the time is right

To travel forth into the night

-Ophelia"

Below these words was a set of tablature. When the time was right… How would I know when that time was? But the most important thing in my head, was that, at some point, I was going to go home. There was hope. Just then I heard our door open

"Dude! Where the hell have you… Dude, you look like shit…. What the f**k happened to you?", our bands lead guitar player said, stomping through the doorway.

I stood up and looked into the mirror. I was wearing the same clothes that Ophelia had given me after sacrificing me to the sea, but my skin was back to its pale color. However, I was covered in blood, whether it was mine or Ironheade's, I couldn't remember.

"They told me you died in a f**king car crash. Well I guess in that case you look pretty good" he said smirking.

"I'm not dead a$$hole." I shot back, just messin' around with him. I quickly stepped in front of my guitar so he wouldn't see the note.

"Good, we need you alive, we got another gig. Get your guitar, stop acting like a whiny b**ch and let's get rehearsing, the rest of the guys will be here soon".


	13. Season 2 Prologue

Chapter 13

Our band was huddled together backstage at "The Dog Run", one of the venues on our main circuit. It was two days after I had reappeared in my own world. Every moment since had been a blur of rehearsing, sleeping and eating (very little). It took a lot to pull me back into our music, but we managed. They never asked where I had disappeared to for a week, nor do I think they really wanted to know at the moment. We lived day to day and gig to gig, that's just how it was. But I didn't feel like I belonged there anymore. I wanted to be back where the music we played wasn't just to get paid or to entertain the faceless masses, but where the music was the air we breathed and the environment around us and everything. I couldn't take it here. But when was the time right. What was Ophelia intending?

"Guys, this is it. Focus up, it's our biggest show yet. Ryan, I know it's been awhile but you still got it, do your best out there, no worries." The pre-show pep talk was over and it was time to head out on the stage and drive this crowd insane. As soon as we cleared the dressing room I ran up to the mic and let out a high pitched screech. I half expected lightning to fly from the PA, but then laughed at myself. I turned to face the drummer who did a quick count off as we launched into our first song. As I played, I felt everything around me start to dim and grow quiet, it was eerie. Was I going def? No, I could still hear the sound of my own guitar in the silence but nothing else. I could see the crowd moving, screaming, some even singing along, but I didn't hear any of it. I turned to check the rest of the band, they were all still playing. But I couldn't hear anything. And then I heard her voice. It was Ophelia

"Now, do it now Ryan. It's time." I stopped playing. I saw the rest of my band stare at me like I had turned into a Basket Case. In my mind, I thought back to the riff Ophelia had left for me. The moment I started playing again, the atmosphere changed. The lights in the room went off and, from the looks of the rest of my band, there amps had stopped working, it was just me. But the atmosphere wasn't the only thing changing, I looked down at my hands which were flying over the neck to see my skin cracking, revealing another layer of sallow blue skin underneath. I began laughing like a mad man as I continued to play, until I now looked the same as I had before Ophelia had sent me away.

I played the last note and then stood staring out the crowd mouths gaping open at me. As the note reverberated throughout the room, tears fell from my eyes, not from sadness, or joy, but from the notes themselves. They formed a pool around my feet. To my own surprise, I began sinking into them. The audience was still in shock, although I saw some people had recovered and were occupied in a variety of tasks which included running, calling the police, and taking photos and videos on those ever-present camera phones. I felt the cold black liquid, like the waves of the sea, rush against my legs, but mysteriously not dampening my pants or skin. I wasn't sinking so much as slipping into the black hole at my feet. As My head went under and my vision went black I heard the words

"Welcome home Ryan, I'll be waiting."

Note from Anthem: Obviously, it's been a while. This is a bridge to get Ryan back into the World, working on the next part, which will be more like the second "season" of the story now. This isn't written very well, but I didn't intend it to be loquacious, only to function as filler to bridge a story gap the most efficent way possible.


	14. Season 2 Ep1

Season 2 Episode 1

As I awoke, I felt the slow pounding of heavy rain against my skull. It was cold, but it felt good on my somewhat feverish skin. Soft grass pressed against my face and underneath my body. Its scent filled my lungs and slowly brought my mind into focus.

"Welcome Home…" These words rang clearly in my head, striking rich tones on each syllable. The voice that spoke them was that which I most longed to hear again, she whom I would have laid down my life for if given the chance. But she died, didn't she? I saw it happen with my own eyes as I was ripped from this world and tossed back into my own. But now I was back. Why now though? Who had brought me back if Ophelia was dead? I wouldn't answer any questions lying where I was so I slowly picked myself up off of the ground, trying to maintain my balance.

The sky was a dark grey and lightning flashed over head as heavy drops poured from the stony clouds above. In the distance I could see light, emanating from torches all around what looked like a giant stone sword stuck into the Earth. Bladehenge, home to Eddie Riggs and Ironheade, the army that had helped destroy the one I loved, the one I had lived for, and who had brought me here in the first place and made me who I am. Ironheade would pay, I would have my revenge. Is that what Ophelia had called me back for? To seek revenge on those who had caused her death? It had to be, there was no other reason I could think of to explain why I was back. Riggs would die by my hand, and soon. My determination felt good, the purpose and resignation welling inside of me. My guitar was lying a few feet away, its body sticking out from underneath a bush. I hastily retrieved it and began to tune it.

I struck the first note and felt the familiar rumble in the elements around me, preparing to be directed by the music. But something sounded a bit off, could it be that… My thought was cut off as all six strings snapped apart simultaneously, grazing across my face and drawing blood. At first I stood there, staring at the smoking headstock, color draining from my face (metaphorically of course). There was no way I could run an assault on Bladehenge without my guitar to back me up, I'd be slaughtered in an instant. Come to think of it, how was I planning on taking down Bladehenge, one man against an entire army? I was good, brilliant even… but not that good. I would need to find a way to get new strings, a problem I had never encountered before, at least in this world. It's not like I could just drive to the nearest guitar center and buy a pair, I'd have to find a way to make or steal some, and without making my presence known.

I sat back down on the grass putting my head against my knees, thinking hard to find a solution, was there anything Ophelia had said that could help me now, anything about the strings, anything she'd come across. Nothing came to mind, no matter how hard I tried to remember back. Frustrated, I pulled my head up and stared into the sky, staring at the great mountain Thunderhorn, outlined by in lightning. And as if one of the bolts had struck my brain, I jumped upright. Ophelia had said something, about the spiders who spun guitar strings for the Thunderhogs and Ironheade during the war. But if I were to steal some, I'd have to be cautious, no one could know that I had come back, or that anyone had survived from the sea of black tears. They hadn't killed me yet, and there carelessness in not finishing the job was going to become their biggest mistake, I set off in the direction of Thunderhorn.

I was careful to avoid the roads and to stay away from any Ironheade encampments, although I longed to crawl from the shadows and destroy them, it would give me away too easily, and I needed the element of surprise if I was going to succeed. I still had no idea how I was going to go about attacking Bladehenge, but I had more pressing matters to deal with, so I put the thought from my mind, for the moment. With my guitar hanging behind me over my shoulders, I trudged on through the wet marshes towards Thunderhorn.

Reaching the base of the mountain, I hid quietly, staying out of the glow from the torches, outlining the path to the cave where the Thunderhogs and the Kilmaster, their leader, lived. As far as I could see, this path was the only way up the mountain, but it was too exposed… If only there was a way to extinguish the torches without entering enter the light they emitted. I thought back to something I had once seen Ophelia do, she had extinguished fire by willing the darkness inside of her to replace the torch flame, and it had all to easily given in. I focused on achieving the same fate, closing my eyes and concentrating on pushing the black tears out towards the torches. When I opened my eyes, I saw a dark vapor escaping from my body and enveloping the torches, shrouding them. The mist followed me as I ascended on the path, hiding me from view in case anyone was watching.

Once at the cave, I peered in, very cautiously. Everybody seemed to be asleep, empty beer kegs strewn around the floor. _Someone must have partied a tad too much last night, better luck for me _I thought to myself, creeping along the walls until I was inside. I could see the Kilmaster, lying atop his throne, loud snores emanating from his partially opened mouth. I noticed another room off of the main chamber, with its door partially opened and began to head towards it. The room was smaller than the main chamber, but hewed out of the same stone. Along the walls were hooks, upon which completed sets of strings hung, awaiting the use of Ironheade, just like some kind of musical armory. There were also spare bikes situated along the far wall. I grabbed one of the pairs of strings along the wall and, deciding it would be better to change them once I'd escaped, I slid them into one of the bags on a motorcycle. As I began to wheel it towards the still open door, a figure stepped into it, blocking my way.

"Put it down and run a… wait, your shirt, it's the Drowning… T-the drowning" the biker said, his finger pointing at the symbol emblazoned on my T-shirt.

"Doom" I said finishing his sentence, and the haze that had extinguished the torches on my ascent to the top of thunderhorn shot out and enveloped his body, suffocating him. He slowly fell to the ground and lay dead. I walked the bike past him and back down the mountain, leaving his body to be found. There was no way they could trace it back to me, it could have been anyone, I didn't care to dispose of a body. When I was out of earshot, I kicked the bike to like and sped towards the beach at the north end of the island, where I planned to repair my guitar and begin planning the next phase of my attack on Bladehenge.

My fingers expertly wove the strings onto the black shimmering body of my guitar, but my eyes were focused elsewhere. I gazed upon the horizon as the sun began to rise and illuminate the shimmering water beneath it. I didn't particularly like the light, or the fact that the rain was now stopping, but part of my human self was still in awe at its natural beauty. Now finished restringing the guitar, I began re-tuning it, feeling the new strings flow beneath my fingers. Before I could take it for a test riff or two though, my eyes were caught again by something just over the horizon. It was small and distant, but even here I could make out its silhouette… That of a ship, moving speedily towards the very coast upon which I sat. "Time to make some new friends" I said to myself, launching myself off of the rock and onto my feet at the water's edge. It struck me that the ships construction was not of any design I had seen before, and unless the boozed up members of Ironheade had gotten off of their collective asses and invented a seafaring craft, then that meant that these people were new, and that I might be getting the army I needed to take down Bladehenge. Only time would tell now, as the ship moved ever closer to the shore.


	15. Season 2 Ep2

Season 2 Chapter 2

The prow of the ship crashed into the sandy beachfront, illuminated by nothing more than the pale white face of the full moon. I stood facing it, my guitar at the ready, should I need to fend off anyone less than friendly. There was a splash on the starboard side as a gangplank was lowered from the deck and into the shallows. My mind began racing, though externally I maintained a calm visage. I tried to prepare myself for any possible outcomes, weighing my odds of survival against a variety of threats. How many people were aboard? What kind of weaponry did they possess? Wear the hell could they be coming from?

Two dark silhouettes appeared on the gangplank, moving wearily down it and into the water. They turned to face me, and began sprinting in my direction. I tensed, preparing to deflect them in any way possible, but they seemed panicked, rather than aggressive. They did not have any visible weapons, and the clothes they wore were barely able to cover their own bodies, let alone conceal anything deadly. The man on the left was tall and slender, almost famished in appearance, with sunken eyes and a long gaunt face, his cheekbones clearly visible. The girl sprinting beside him was shorter, but shared in his appearance of malnourishment. They slowed as they reached me, holding their hands up in a gesture of peace.

We stood there for a few moments, as the two strangers caught their breath, looking sideways at one another, and then back at me. I realized how strange I must seem, with my dark blue skin, wielding a guitar that merged in and out of the surrounding darkness.

"We, uh, come in peace?" the man said questioningly, glancing at his partner. I simply nodded, my arms folded, silently inviting them to elaborate.

"We need your help, one of our passengers is in grave need of medical attention, please, we'll explain ourselves once he's taken care of" the woman pleaded. Uncrossing my arms I replied,

"I'll do what I can, but I am alone here, for now, and I don't know how much help I will be, bring him here though, along with the rest of your crew." These people seemed friendly enough, but I would have to maintain caution, in case it was some type of elaborate hoax.

"All clear" the man hollered back to the ship, the ghost of a smile beginning to break over his thin face, "bring him out!"

I quickly found some rocks and a piece of driftwood, creating a makeshift table for the crew to rest their wounded man on. They rushed him out from below decks and brought him on shore, followed by around seventy other people. He was pale, and shaking all over, and looked as though he hadn't been fully conscious in months. His breath came in shallow bursts and he seemed to be hovering at the edge of death.

"He's been like this for days, we desperately needed to find land… can you save him?" said the man who had first approached me. I believed I could, there was a solo that I'd used in battle, one that summoned the healing powers of the black tears. In most cases this gift would be a blessing to its target but…

"If I save his life, he will become like me", I said, "a tear drinker, a dark being." There were hushed murmurs among the crowd and then, as if they shared a collective consciousness, they all nodded once. The notes came, slowly at first, trickling out creating a dark mist around only myself and the one who lay before me. The tone of the notes got thicker, and then more distorted, and faster all the time. The mist began to shimmer and shift to become a liquid black mass that, for only a moment, hovered between us. Then, at the pluck of a string, it enveloped us. It felt good, as if Ophelia were there, weeping above us, it brought me back to the first time we'd met, the axe, the pain, and then the transformation… I heard a choking and coughing coming from the wounded man as the tears accomplished their task. As if a faucet was slowly being turned off, I began to release the tears, which turned back into a thick black mist. It hung over us for only a moment before it was carried away and dissipated by the wind.

The wounded man still lay before me, but his skin, like mine, was a dark blue, his hair jet black. He stirred and then looked up at me.

"Michael!" someone in the crowd screamed. Michael turned his head to look, as another girl ran up and embraced him. As more people began crowding around their newly revived comrade, I searched through the crowd for than man I'd met first, who I now assumed was their leader. He was standing by the front of his ship, staring out at the mass of people. When he saw me approaching he extended his hand without a word. I shook it, staring straight into his eyes, which seemed to intimidate him.

"My name's Jason" he said, "you must have some questions, and believe me, we have quite a long list ourselves. However, it would seem we already owe you a debt so…

"Who are you?" I asked, cutting him off.

"We are…" he said, stopping and looking down to gather his thoughts. "In our homeland we were the victims of oppression, those who wanted a better life than those we were thrust into. There was a revolution, those of us who wanted to stand up for our basic rights, against those who wished to keep the control for themselves. We are what's left of that resistance, we who dwell in the shadows, the Black Phantoms."

"Black Phantoms?" I repeated. "Well I think we may get along just fine".


	16. Season 2 Ep3

Season 2 Episode 3

The chill wind felt good against my wings as I soared through the air. The remains of the Black Phantom resistance was still on shore, where they had established a base camp of sorts, recovering from months of sea travel. I'd felt it was time to do a little Reconnaissance of my own, scope out what had happened after the war. My first mission was to return to my origins, to the sea of black tears. A sick Nostalgia begin bubbling somewhere deep in my stomach, as the skies went from a light blue to a dark cloudy grey. Fog from the Dry Ice mines drifted up, engulfing my silhouette in the sky.

Although I desperately wanted to return, I took caution, because I knew Ironheade would have taken some sort of action to seal the black tears and guard its entrance, so that there would never be more tear drinkers. From the air, I could see what use to be the mouth of the cave that held so many painful memories. What once was a giant skull carved into the rock had been reduced to rubble, to bar access to the sea of black tears. Two large towers also stood on either side of the former entrance, each guarded by a handful of headbangers and razor girls. Disposing of them wouldn't be a problem, but the towers would require the efforts of more than just one person, I'd need to seek assistance from my new allies.

Hovering in the shadows, I watched as one headbanger wandered off from the rest of the group, towards the crushed rock at the base of the used-to-be skull. Drunkenly, he unzipped his pants and began pissing on the entrance to the sea of black tears. Enraged, my vision focused in on the headbanger and I spiraled into a dive. In my hands, created from the air around me, formed a dark black blade, two feet in length, razor sharp along one edge. The headbanger turned and his mouth opened into a scream that never came. The blade sliced cleanly through the thick skin and sinew of his muscled neck, and his decapitated head fell to the ground at my feet.

"Holy Shit, did you see…"

I heard the voice behind me, but before he could get the rest of the sentence out, I grabbed my guitar and struck a power chord, sending the remaining members of the small guard flying in opposite directions. Quickly, while they were still on the ground, I launched into an improvised solo, feeling the elements within my mind transferred to the physical landscape. Bolts of lightning shot from the cloudy sky, electrifying each where they lay. My heart was pounding in my ears, and slowly I hooked my guitar back onto my back, and watched as the sword disappeared back into the mist. Then, to my dismay, I heard the shriek of sirens, coming from the towers, Ironheade new that I was here. Well, not me specifically, but that Someone had broken their perimeter.

Questions began racing through my mind. How long would it take for them to respond? Would they be coming from Bladehenge? Where is the nearest Ironheade encampment? Is there time to go inside and… But no, it would take at least an hour for me to shift all this rock, even with my considerable strength. And Ironheade would be sure to quadruple protection here after they found their members dead, which dashed all hope of returning here anytime soon. I would be lucky if they didn't suspect my hand in anything, it would be best if they didn't know I had returned. Quickly, I played another solo to call the closest wolves and other vicious local wildlife to my location, trying to make it look like as if they had caused the gruesome murders. The burnt bodies could be attributed to wild fire beasts, but the decapitation… I pulled a lighter out of my pocket, knelt down beside the dismembered corpse, and set it on fire. Satisfied that I had sufficiently covered my track, and taking one final glance at the place I had once called home, and flew off into the forthcoming dawn.

My wings stirred up small clouds of sand as I touched down on the beach that had now become my home base. The sun had now risen over the horizon and my new allies were huddled around a small campfire. I also noticed that they had made a few trips to the beer trees and were now each member ranged from buzzed to fall on blackout drunk. They had also managed to harvest local plants and use them for food, as well as medicines for their wounded. But all of this was eclipsed by the music coming from the group.

There were no instruments, only the sound of their voices, joined by the rhythmic clapping of their hands, and beating of their feet upon the ground. It was unlike anything I'd heard before. As I got closer to the camp, I could clearly make out the words they were singing:

Our Generation

Is the product of your lies

What you've created is

Your own silent demise

You took our voices

Yet we stood at any cost

To win back our rights

Cause we're the Generation Lost!

Their voices were echoed by one another, and the beating was entrancing. These people had suffered something so extreme, and their music was the only way they could get their feelings out of them and into the world. And the world was reacting, like it had to my guitar, but different in a way. The clouds above us began to dissipate, and the ripples in the sea began pumping in time with the music. Nothing particularly violent or destructive, but powerful nonetheless.

And their song sparked an idea in my mind. I listened intently for another minute or so, still standing a few yards from the camp, where no one had seen me yet, so enraptured in their own music. I pulled my guitar across my body and began to strum chords in time with their song, adding another layer to the fray. The chord progressions were fast, with little time for embellishment, but they it fit in perfectly. No one in the group seemed surprised as they turned to stare at me. A few smiled and motioned for me to join them. And so I became more closely acquainted with the Black Phantoms, revolutionaries from an unknown place, who I could only hope would assist me as I made Ironheade pay for my loss.

Their leader, Jason, threw his fist into the air, making the music come to a halt abruptly. And then he cried out, with the crowd responding:

"We are…"

"…the wrench in your machine"

"We are…"

"…the creation of your contempt"

"We will…"

"…fight for the rights of one another"

"You will see our name and fear…"

"…The Black Phantoms!"


	17. Season 2 Ep4

Anthem for the Drowning Season 2 Episode 4

"We have told you about ourselves, where we come from, what we stand for, what we've been through as a community. Now, it is time for you to return the favor friend. Tell me please, who are you?"

Jason and I sat alone together, away from the rest of the camp. Night had fallen once more and we had chosen a spot overlooking the ebb and flow of the tides against the beach, reflecting the orb of the moon as it had on the night they'd first arrived. I had known that this moment would come. From the moment that they had first set foot off of their vessel, I knew I would have to explain myself, about Ironheade, the second Black Tear rebellion, the death of Ophelia, my plot for revenge, everything. But I couldn't, not everything. Just enough to get them to help me, but not enough that they could sell me out to Ironheade if they decided not to be of assistance to my cause…

"My name is Ryan" I began, simple enough, "I've been on this island for about five or six months." of course leaving out my little side trip back to the modern world.

"What did you mean when you said you were a tear drinker, back when you healed Michael?" I hesitated, how much to say…

"On this Island there is a sea, and when one drinks from it, it endows the drinker with certain powers, at the price of their will to live. I once looked like you, but I embraced the black tears, and now I am like this. There were many of us once" I began, seeing my chance, "but we were exterminated, destroyed by the tyrants who control this place." The look on Jason's face was one of both shock and empathy.

"We seem to be in a similar boat my friend, we too have had everything taken from us, but our cause is beyond hope, yours we may still fight for!" he replied.

"You would do that, help a complete stranger in a battle that is not your own?"

"It is our battle, because injustice anywhere threatens the justice of all living things, including us. We will help you to take back what you have lost!"

"You cannot bring back the dead" I said quietly. We both paused and then Jason's hand was on my shoulder,

"Then we shall avenge your fallen comrades. I will inform the others, we will prepare to follow you in whatever course of action you choose."

"Thank you" I said, clasping his shoulder with my hand. We stood there for a moment, before nodding and parting ways. _That was much easier than expected _I thought to myself. Now to begin planning the next phase, how to attack Ironheade's stronghold at Bladehenge.

The rain started around late afternoon, giving me plenty of cover as I flew high above the Ironheade base at Bladehenge. From what I could see, there was no easy point of entry where we would not be detected. It wasn't a big place, and it would be very well-defended. That is, of course, unless I were able to get them all out of Bladehenge, into the open, and fight them away from their defenses, unprepared. Almost immediately I noted an open field, far from the camp, with fan geysers glowing silently upon it. That could work, if we could get Ironheade's entire army out in the open at one time, we could have a better chance of winning.

But what if we lost? I'd still be hedging our bets on one all out stage battle, and just hope that we come out on top. And I wasn't willing to risk that, especially since the lives I would be betting were not my own, they were Jason's men, and I wanted to have as close to zero casualties as possible. This was my battle, and I didn't want my allies to be hurt in the process of my vengeful quest. So I began to think of ways that we could win. Thus far, all battles had been fought in the form of attrition, no real sabotage, just the outright stage battles between two opposing forces. Again, not something I was willing to risk with Jason's army.

I tried envisioning exactly what the field would look like with the two stages on it, and how the battle would turn out. It was then that the hills and rocks ringing the area caught my attention, those spots would be perfect to lay down heavy covering fire, Ironheade would have a hard time getting out into the open that way. The open battlefield would turn into one big kill box, and Eddie Riggs would never see it coming. Especially if we caught them by surprise, send a small party in the middle of the night to attack Bladehenge, and then retreat rapidly, drawing the enemy forces into our trap. _Every box needs a lid_ I thought to myself. We would have another group of soldiers hide, wait for Ironheade to leave Bladehenge, and then go in from behind, trapping them and forcing their surrender. It would humiliate them, and we would be assured victory.

With my plan in mind, I set about making a list of preparations that would be required for this plan that I could take back to the Black Phantoms. First, we'd need heavy weaponry, rapid fire of some sort to keep Ironheade at bay in the kill box. Second, we would need some sort of lightning storm, to keep Riggs from taking to the skies during our battle. I could handle that probably with a quick riff our two. Third, we'd need some explosives, for the enemy stage, should they have time to erect one… God they were fast with those things. And maybe we could even do some redecorating in Bladehenge as well…

With this in mind I stopped circling the fields and returned to the beachfront, seeking out Jason to begin preparing. I wanted to attack as soon as possible, revenge was so close now, and it pounded through every cell in my blood, and every fiber in my being.


End file.
